


A King’s Wish

by Jathis



Category: Sofia the First (Cartoon)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Alternate Universe - Dark, Corporal Punishment, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Madness, Unhealthy Relationships, king Cedric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 15:53:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29191839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jathis/pseuds/Jathis
Summary: All hail the king
Relationships: Baileywick/Cedric the Sorcerer
Kudos: 4





	A King’s Wish

**Author's Note:**

> Artwork by Clown-Manifestation on Tumblr!

The amount of death certificates spread out on the table had not been seen in a long time. Each one was filled out, names found through the use of magic and simple interrogation. “I want them flushed out and dealt with like rats in a granary. Deal with the lesser ones there but I want the leaders brought to me alive. That is the keyword here; alive. Failure to do so will be seen as showing open disrespect to your king and you know what happens to those who show open disrespect to their king.”

There was a tense moment of silence as the threat sank in. The bodies on display outside were proof enough that the king was ready and willing to carry out the threats made. He had been forced to deal with a lot of disloyal members of the army and guard before the others swore proper fealty to him.

Purple sealing wax was poured onto the bottom of the declaration and a spell pressed down on it, leaving the symbol of Enchancia’s king. This process was repeated for each death certificate until they were collected neatly and carried away by the captain of the royal guard.

King Cedric watched them leave and hummed. He rested his elbows on top of his desk, locking his fingers together before resting his chin on top of them. This was the last stronghold the rebels held in his kingdom. Once they were dead and gone, things would be much easier to deal with.

“Who knew there would be so many corpses to deal with, Wormy!” Cedric said, looking over at his familiar. “I’m sure your kind have never been better fed.”

The raven snorted, rolling his eyes. “As if I have ever stooped to such a thing in my life.”

Cedric laughed, shrugging as he picked up a bell and rang it. “Kings don’t need to eat things left to rot in the sun at any rate,” he said. “You only get the best, don’t you?”

“It’s what we deserve,” Wormwood reminded him.

He giggled in agreement. He looked up as his door opened and he sat back in his chair. “Baileywick,” he hummed.

The royal steward stood stiffly to attention, his hands folded behind his back. He looked tired now, dark rings under his eyes from lack of sleep. “Yes?”

“I want you to write down a new proclamation and have it sent out to the entire kingdom,” Cedric said. He watched in approval as the older man produced a scroll and quill. “I want it to be known that harboring a rebel will result in severe punishment. All occupants in a building where a rebel is found shall be given the same sentence as the rebel and their lands and property shall be claimed by His Majesty and dealt with accordingly.”

Cedric watched as Baileywick wrote what he said. He smiled, idly biting the end of his finger to hold back a giggle. Baileywick had always enjoyed talking back and insulting him. Now the man had no choice but to obey his every command! “Read it back to me,” he ordered once Baileywick was finished writing.

The older man put his quill away and held the scroll with both hands. He cleared his throat before he started to read, “By order of the Usurper Cedric the Cruel…”

Wormwood jumped when Cedric slammed his fist down and stood up, his eyes blazing with barely suppressed rage. “That is not what I said!” he shouted. He pointed a furious finger in Baileywick’s face, barely stopping himself from striking the older man. “Say it correctly! You are my steward now! My will is your law! Whatever I say you must obey!”

Baileywick stared back at him, his face remaining calm as the sorcerer raged and fumed. “I was under the impression that I was a steward, not a slave,” he said.

“You belong to the castle. That means you belong to me,” Cedric growled. “I am your king. I am King Cedric the Great! You will address me by my proper title!”

“As you wish, your highness.” He did not move as Cedric picked up a paperweight from his desk and hurled it at him. The younger man had never been athletically inclined and the heavy object thudded harmlessly to the ground beside his feet.

“Your Majesty!” Cedric shouted. “You know what title to use for a king! Your Majesty!”

“There is no need to use such honorifics for me, your highness,” he said, continuing to use the wrong term.

“Get out! Get out before I have you serve as a new lawn decoration!”

He folded the scroll up, slipping it into his jacket as he turned to the door. “Very good, your highness,” he said before taking his leave. He was gone just as a bottle of ink shattered against the wall.

The office was torn apart in Cedric’s anger. Papers and books were shredded and thrown all over. When he was finished he sat down, breathing heavily as he glared down at nothing.

“Why do you allow him to live?” Wormwood finally asked.

“...he’s the castle steward,” Cedric answered.

The raven rolled his eyes. “You can always hire a new one. Keeping this one around is dangerous. He openly defies you, Cedric. He should be punished for it!”

This seemed to make Cedric perk up. “Yes, punished...but not killed!” he insisted. He stood up and went to the door, opening it. He looked around and pointed at a random guard passing by, gesturing for him to approach. “You! Go and find the royal steward. Give him ten lashes across his shoulders. Make sure you break the skin,” he commanded. “I want everyone in the castle to see what happens to those who show me disrespect!” He turned back to Wormwood with a smile as the man left to obey. “See? Simple.”

The raven sighed. “Execution is a far better punishment for open disrespect,” he said.

“I want him alive. I want him to see me rule Enchancia,” Cedric said.

“Your feelings for him will be your downfall,” Wormwood warned.

“Feelings? I have no feelings for the man!” Cedric argued. He blushed at the look his raven gave him and he huffed, looking away. “I am King Cedric the Great. My word is final,” he declared.

***

That night during dinner, Cedric stared helplessly at Baileywick’s back. The older man’s black jacket and tan vest had been removed, leaving him in his white shirt, bow, and trousers. The back of his shirt was stained red, evidence of Cedric’s order being carried out earlier.

“Baileywick…” Cedric murmured. He reached out and grabbed the other’s wrist as he was walking past, holding him. “Baileywick.”

“Is there something you need, your majesty?” the castle steward asked, looking down at him. 

Cedric buried his face against his stomach and started to cry, clutching onto his shirt. “I’m sorry!” he wept, his shoulders trembling. 

Baileywick placed a hand on his head, running his fingers through his hair in comfort. “I know,” he softly said. “I know you are, Cedric.”


End file.
